Campaign Speech

Album: Single Release Only (2016)
  • Jumped out of the second floor of a record store
    With a Treacherous Four cassette and a cassette recorder
    In Ecuador with Edward Norton
    Witness the metamorphosis of a legend growin' like an expert swordsman
    From the Hessian war and hence the origin of the headless horseman
    Born with the endorphin's of a pathetic orphan
    Endless sores and reservoir of extension cords in dresser drawers
    And deadbolts on the bedroom doors
    And sexual torture kits kept in a separate storage bin
    Excellent boyfriend

    Use intercourse to settle scores with women who have been vendettas towards men
    Dickhead is forced in to the shredded foreskin
    Red is torn and they're only bein' fed a portion
    Bed sores in sore shins
    Pregnant whores can get abortions
    Fetish for stickin' metal forks in
    Self absorption
    Skeletor, I went to hell and fell a floor
    A predator, I'm headed for competitors
    Better warn 'em, what I lack in tact and a set of morals
    I make up for in metaphors like a cosmetic store
    Stegosaurus
    Chuck Norris with a thesaurus
    Yes of course, I mess up once
    You want some? Come and get some, boys
    I'm givin' Daniel Pantaleo a refresher course
    On excessive force and pressure points
    And dressin' George Zimmerman in a fluorescent orange
    Dress and four inch heels to address the court
    With a bullseye on his back
    His whole chest and torso
    Are left on the doorsteps of Trayvon's dad as a present for him
    In my present form I'm desert storm
    Appetite for destruction is no suppressant for
    Aggressive, forceful, and less remorseful in every morsel
    Unpleasant, horrible, hello gorgeous
    The rebel with devil horns just fell off the yellow short bus
    Met a contortionist, said, "When you wanna get sexual?"
    She said, "However I fit in your schedule, I'm flexible"
    Expired tags on the Saturn
    Got Kathryn Beck in the back in Daisy Dukes with the hazards on
    At a traffic stop gettin' harassed, sign an autograph
    For this asshole cop's daughter, laugh 'cause I called her a brat on it
    He spat on it and brought it back lookin' half in shock
    Had a heart attack and dropped dead
    Started fallin' back with it and got slapped with a Colin Kaepernick practice sock

    One ball and half a dick, Apple Watch
    Crack for an axle, walked in a Bass Pro Shop with David Hasselhoff
    Pulled Tabasco sauce out of my satchel
    Knocked over a fisherman's tackle box and
    Asked if they had a laugh in stock
    That was fuckin' stupid...

    You got it twisted
    All 'cause I offered this bitch a doggie biscuit you call me misogynistic
    Bitch get to massagin' this dick
    Like spas in this bitch
    Slob on it with gobs of lipstick
    Got a shoppin' list for you to run some odds and ends with
    It's not a bitch on this earth I can be monogamous with
    She's non-existent
    Robin Thicke with a throbbin' dick on some swab and slick shit
    But I shout derogatives at bitches like fuckin' missile launches
    Misfit, blond and nitwit like I've gone ballistic
    With a frostin' tip kit
    Screamed, "I hate blondes," and became one
    I'm optimistic
    Love to start shit
    Shovin' Clark Kent's undergarments in the glove compartment
    Of the bucket, bumpin' Bubba Sparxxx
    I'm double parkin' up at Targets
    Trouble 'cause a double cross
    The shadiest mothafucka you'll ever come across
    Olympic gymnast, been known for some assaults
    A couple lawsuits, enough to 'cause a stomach ulcer
    Same damn brain scan results
    As Rainman's is
    Something's awful when Dustin Hoffman's
    Dressin' up in your mummy costume
    On stage dancin' to "Brain Damage"
    What's the problem?
    Nothing's wrong, the name brand is back to reclaim status
    Run the faucet, I'm about to dunk a bunch of Trump supporters underwater
    Snuck up on 'em in Ray Bans in a gray van with a spray tan
    It's a wrap like an Ace bandage
    Don't-give-a-fuck persona
    To my last DNA strand, E&J in the waistband
    At the VMAs with the stagehand
    She wants kielbasa
    Pre-arrange an escape plan
    Three inch blade on point like a Sensei
    Consider me a dangerous man but you should be afraid of this dang candidate
    You say Trump don't kiss ass like a puppet
    'Cause he runs his campaign with his own cash for the fundin'
    And that's what you wanted
    A fuckin' loose cannon who's blunt with his hand on the button
    Who doesn't have to answer to no one

    Great idea!

    If I was president
    Gettin' off is the first order of business
    Once I get in office
    Second thing that'll make me happy's walkin' up to Uncle Sam
    Naked, laughing, dick cupped in hand
    Screamin', "Fuck safe sex," throw a latex and an AIDS test at him
    Tell Congress I run this land
    And I want the rubber banned
    And make it snappy
    Addiction to friction and static
    Addict who can't escape the habit
    It's in you to chase the dragon
    But as fate would have it
    I walked up in major Magics
    Dressed as the maintenance man
    In a laser tag vest and a racin' jacket
    With a gauge to blast it
    And sped away in the station wagon
    Stacey Dash's and Casey Anthony's crazy asses in the backseat
    Throwin' Stay-Free pads at me
    Dead passenger in the passenger seat
    Unfasten the safety latches
    And slam on the brakes in traffic so hard
    I snapped the relocation brackets for the monster tires
    Finna get a murder case and catch it
    Like you threw it at me encased in plastic

    And send Dylan Roof through the windshield of the Benz
    Until he spins like a pinwheel and begins feelin'...
    Like a windmill with a thin bill while his skin's peelin'
    And skids 'til he hits a cement pillar
    Swing for the fence like Prince Fielder
    Knock it into the upper peninsula
    You want to go against zilla? The Rap God
    When will I quit? Never been realer
    The in-stiller of fear, not even a scintilla of doubt
    Whose pens iller than Prince in a chinchilla
    Or Ben Stiller in a suspense thriller
    Revenge killer of bin syllable binge
    Fill a syringe, 'till I
    Draw first blood
    Even pop shit on my pop shit, and it's popular
    Couldn't be more awkwarder
    'Cause you're innocence I robbed you of
    It's my fingers that got stuck up
    Tortured a, not give a
    Slapstick, hockey puck
    The board hunter with the sawed off
    Like an arm when it's lopped off
    But I'm not gonna, get the shotgun
    Or the Glock, I'm gonna opt for the ox
    'Cause I'm into objects that are sharp when I sharpen
    It's not a shock, I'm such an obnoxious fucker
    The rock cuts into rock 'cause who would have thought
    This much of a cocksucker that go across the buttocks of Vivica Fox with a box cutter
    That was for 50, little slap on the wrist be warned
    I'm unravelling quickly
    My squabbles, I'm grappling with your time traveling with me
    Try and follow, as I wobble, relapse into history, with a flask of the whiskey
    Tip it back then I'm twisting wine bottles
    Like what happened to Chris Reeves spine column
    That's the plan of attack when I'm fixing my problems
    Wish my chest wasn't having to get these rhymes off 'em
    But the fact that I have so many rappers against me mind boggles
    And why I had to come back on these faggots who diss me
    More of a spectacular mystery than a fucking Agatha Christie crime novel
    But my patience is wearing thin
    Swear I been contemplating rubbing shit in your face 'till I smear it in
    Diss you in every lyric until you fear the pen
    And never appear again
    If you actually had fucking careers to end
    But then I think of Molly Qerim and I steer 'em in that direction and forget my ideas for them
    Molly I'm gone off you
    Man light some kush
    You're my first take, I'll nail you
    Can't lie, I gush
    If I won you over, you would be the grand prize
    I'm entranced by your looks, come and give the Shady franchise a push
    You can get it in a can like some Anheuser Busch
    Jeans too small, least three pant sizes tush
    Mushed against your damn side, you puss
    And thighs are squooshed
    What kind of attires that?
    I'm ready to be rode
    Psychopath, bet you we'll get it popping like a flat
    Light the match to ignite the wrath
    Got knives to slash and slice hermaphrodites in half
    Piper Chapmans might just have to picket me
    Like a scab
    Hard to describe in fact
    Startling violent perhaps
    Are things that come to mind as soon as I start spitting rhymes like that
    And you aren't really surprised at that
    But as far as these lines I rap
    And these bars, wouldn't dial it back if I star 69'ed the track

    Why am I such a dick?Writer/s: MARSHALL B. MATHERS III, EMILE HAYNIE, MARK CHRISTOPHER BATSON, DENAUN M. PORTER
    Publisher: Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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